


Intertwining Fates

by Sirenacci



Series: Animal Kingdom [1]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Animal Ears, Animal Traits, Artist John, Falling In Love, Fashion Designer Freddie, Fluff, M/M, Model Roger, Modern Era, More tags and characters to be added, Pediatrician or Doctor Brian, Pining, Poodle!Brian, Tiger!Freddie, lion!Roger
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-22 20:40:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18535099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirenacci/pseuds/Sirenacci
Summary: In a world where everyone is an animal hybrid of some sort with animalistic features, see what happens when fate brings people together in the least expected of ways.





	Intertwining Fates

**Author's Note:**

> This universe is similar to the A/B/O universe in some aspects but none of those sub/dom thing.

The harsh glare of the rays of light that had found its way inside the antediluvian studio through the monumental window panes framed by white metal alloys, had started to reflect off of the fabric that was laid on top of a cluttered work desk enveloped in scraps of fabric of a different fashion and spools of thread and measuring tape covering every inch of available space. The walls adjacent to the desks were plastered with boards that had been fastened tightly, many pieces of paper with rough images of dresses, outfits and many other intricate headpieces and decorations inscribed on it, seemingly to be drawn with haste yet had clarity behind them.

Sounds of the songs morning birds would sing in harmony like a church choir made its way inside through a small opening in said window, reverberated throughout the vast space that appeared to shelter not a single soul. The grandiose celebrated ceilings, whilst tall and mighty, fell victim to the flock for they had taken a penchant in perching on the embellishments that were built into the structure. The building had previously been a decrepit and dilapidated church in the past that was skilfully repurposed into a studio which is currently in possession of a renowned fashion designer who bought the land and property on it years prior.

Under the tall window lied a figure covered in a thick layer of a blanket-like material on top of a couch, seemingly in a deep sleep and unfazed by the pleasant chirps of the feathered acquaintances. As the sunlight illuminated the whole room, it hadn’t shown its mercy towards the resting figure for it had roused him from his long slumber. His attempt to hide under his blanket to return to his dreams and to shroud himself from the brilliant sunbeams had been pointless for it had only been a temporary ticket back to his fantasies when the alarm he had set blared, sending the startled birds to escape the premises in a hurried manner.

“Oh, shut up!” He yelled while yawning at the sentient object, covering his ears with his large pillow to block out the nagging noise. Once it was proven to be futile, he got up and staggered towards it, still not fully awake and shut it down, his disorganised, midnight black hair that fell just below his shoulders, obscured his vision and caused him to nearly trip on his own feet. Rubbing his eyes to rid of the crusts that had formed at the corners of his tear ducts, he then proceeded to take his phone from his back front pocket which read 7:00 exactly, without a single second or minute off.

“It’s still seven? Why on bloody hell am I awake at this hour?!” He groggily grumbled to himself and scratched the back of his large orange ears that had black and white markings on them. He adjusted his long sleeved shirt and tried to return to his catnap but was unable to do so for now he was wide awake feeling exhausted instead of the relaxed state anyone would prefer.

He raised both of his hands to the sky and began to stretch his body, lessening the fatigue and tension his body was feeling due to his unsuitable sleeping position and the stiff couch that he was sleeping on which was more of a decorative piece instead of a functional one. He let out a loud yawn as he released the tension on his back and shoulders, proceeding to wipe away the small droplets that had formed at the corner of his eye and looked back at his tail which was arched upwards with his fur fluffed out and standing on end towards the ceilings which indicated his discontentment and tired state. He looked outside the tall windows and saw the picturesque bright azure sky with white clouds that didn’t once lift his spirits up, the sun’s brilliant radiance highlighting his high cheekbones and olive skin.

Scratching his head, he continued to filter through his multitudes of messages he’s received from fans of his work, reporters who yearned to be granted an interview with him and random offers he would receive from his internet providers for greater deals in which he wasn’t interested in. After cleaning some more texts and mails, his noticed that he had received a notification from his assistant that had gone home early the day prior because of her claims of being under the weather. He had hoped that she was messaging to report back to him that she wasn’t ill anymore and that she would be working, only to discover that she had called in sick due to an outbreak that only affected felines for she was a variation of the British Shorthair. He saw her text that read:

‘Alexis: I’m very sorry sir, I can’t come to work today. I’ve got a respiratory problem because of the hay fever that’s been affecting us felines recently. I still haven’t checked the venue out and picked the flowers yet so you’re on your own, boss. The flower shop I frequented is on the 21st Avenue at Corona Street. Trust me, you’ll know which one it is when you see it ;)’

“Are you kidding me? I haven’t even finished the collection yet and this is what I get for waking up early? Why do I have a feeling that this world is using me?” He grumbled and massaged his temples, still not fully awake from his sleep, yet sober enough to comprehend the situation he was unwillingly subjected to. Even though it was in his nature to be solitary and sovereign, he still needed his assistant’s succour, even if it did hurt his pride.

He had thought of asking his friend for some help in checking the venue he was going to use for his upcoming fashion show, but thought against it. He wouldn’t want to disturb his friend’s morning for he knew that he had been working long hours without taking breaks in between. Though he thought that he shouldn’t be bothering the lion at such an untimely hour, he knew that he had to give it a shot. He just wishes that he hadn’t caught the illness caused by the outbreak as well.

He scrolled through the applications in his phone and searched through his contacts list for his number and quickly found it. While waiting for him to pick up his end of the call, he sauntered by to his cluttered work table in the middle of the room to re-examine the designs and details he had come up with, feeling frustrated yet hopeful. Out of nowhere, he felt his stomach grumble, producing an audible growl that had startled him. The sound reminded him of the lack of nutrition he was receiving due to him being too absorbed in his work and compromised his health, which he cared about yet couldn’t fully commit to a regular eating pattern because of the line of work he was in.

“Hello?” The other side picked up the call and inquired in a bleary and weak voice. 

On the other side of the call, there lied a figure on top of a king sized bed surrounded by discarded clothing and draped in silk sheets, the room completely dark without a single trace of light ever shining through the double curtains which shrouded the window panes with a lingering scent of exotic perfume in the air, presumably originating from his party he threw for himself as a reward for another hard day’s work. Beside him where he normally places his phone and box of cigarettes, the ringtone he had set blared the moment he received a call and woken him up from his sleep and left him with a heart beating like a drumroll.

“Hey, it’s me darling. Listen, could you do me a favour and check out the venue I’m going to use? My assistant can’t make it to work today.” He asked as he shifted his weight on one foot, his voice as sweet as honey yet had sounded drained at the same time.

“What the fuck, it’s still 7 in the morning! Later.” The recipient replied in an angry and fatigued tone. Most likely upset that he was roused from his comfortable sleep.

“But you’ll do it right?” He questioned to reaffirm his answer for he couldn’t afford to waste any more of his own time in uncertainty.

“Whatever. Why the hell are you even up in this hour?” He replied and abruptly ended the call which had lasted for less than a minute. He let out a sigh and hung his head low because he wasn’t sure as to how he was going to handle his friend’s temperamental behaviour that could get very heated at times. Though he was on good terms with the person he was calling, he still had to be careful around his erratic behaviour because he could blow off the handle as easy as flipping a switch.

The background of how the both of them familiarised themselves with one another was when he attended a charity event held by his colleague. He was invited as a guest of honour as a way for his colleague to repay her debts to him for always lending her his assistance during one of her major bridal shows a few years back which had launched her career in the wedding industry. He had caught glimpses of many familiar faces who attended the event, many of which were either the people he was acquainted and are on good terms with or are his enemies. Although he had tried to live a clean and honest life, there were just horrible people who took advantage of his generosity and talents.

His lavish and signature clothing caught the attention of the model with striking ice blue eyes that seemed as though they were fashioned out of crystals found in the depths of caves only mentioned in legends. It was almost as if the world stopped spinning for a brief moment when he caught his attention with his shoulder length, sun-kissed golden hair and a long tail of the same colour that appeared to be neatly trimmed. His splendour rivalled those Greek and Roman gods and goddesses, some even questioned how a man could be as beautiful as him and went as far as to accuse him to be a woman. The model had introduced himself first, though there was no need for him to do that since everyone was well versed in the fashion industry had worked with or at the very least heard of his name, Roger Taylor.

Though he appeared to radiate confidence and dominion with his strikingly beautiful exterior, he was very bashful and humble when he started to hold a conversation with him for he greatly admired him. He soon discovered that they had many things in common with him, starting with them originating from the same family of Felidae, to their same taste in music. The more they converse, the more they seem to get along. Soon enough, the two of them forged a new friendship that was unbreakable only until there were alcohol involved or if both parties were heavily intoxicated for they were known to do incredibly stupid stunts under the influence of liquor.

The new rapport had been made famous by various sources ranging from the word of mouth, news headlines and gossip tabloids when the both of them would do favours for one another. For instance, he would lend him a hand in modelling for his fashion shows when he has a shortage of labour and he would design unique pieces for him as gifts. Although there were rumours about the both of them seeing each other, they gracefully rebuffed those baseless reports for their relationship portrayed by the media was far from the truth. They were indeed close, nevertheless, there was nothing between them except for pure friendship and admiration for one another, anything of the latter sort would ruin their bond.

He couldn’t be bothered to change his outfit for he was certain that it wouldn’t take that much time to order some flowers. He wasn’t expecting anything grandiose from a flower shop that was located in that area of London for he was familiar with the city he grew up in so he knew that buildings and establishments from that street would normally be old fashioned and humble, yet he was curious as to what his assistant meant by her text. He then placed his phone inside of his back pocket and took his time in fixing himself a cup of black coffee for he needed himself to be energised and wide awake. Though he was normally fond of the bitter taste the coffee provided, oddly enough, he wasn’t in the mood for it and added a packet of sugar to his drink.

The black folder which held all of his designs and plans together was on the floor, opened at a certain angle where there would be some fold marks left on the cover, something very insignificant yet would bother him so. He crouched down and picked it up, his eyes scanning through the object with great caution to ensure himself that none of the designs in his folder had been damaged or missing. Once his suspicions were dismissed, he placed it on top of his desk and closed it, sauntering by to his cluttered work desk to take his keys, never forgetting to wear large sunglasses and a medical mask to protect his identity and himself from the outbreak. Even though the mere mention of his name would send anyone into a frenzy, his appearances were often times kept in the dark with the lack of media coverage of his personal life, something he was thankful for.

He closed the door behind him and walked towards the quiet streets to reach a bus stop for he wasn’t interested in owning a car nor was he able to drive one, resenting them for their absurd upkeep and prices. He had to rely on taking public transport or taking a cab to his destination, contrary to what most people assume he would do. There wasn’t a lot of people waiting for the bus, most likely due to the fact that it was early in the morning, just a few hours after the sun rose to signal the start of another day yet again. He had thought of taking his phone out to keep himself busy, thinking that the bus wouldn’t come for another ten or twelve minutes, yet the opposite was true. He heard the loud sound of the tires from the red vehicle just inches away from him, making out the sound of the release of compressed air from the pneumonic brakes as the bus had stopped before him.

He felt somehow anxious about entering the vehicle, sensing that there must be something wrong with his day considering the fact that his routine was disrupted abruptly due to his unfortunate schedule. He had second thoughts on boarding the bus and walked away clenching his fists inside his pocket, letting his mind to overthink things through and take over his actions. The confused glances he would get from the people who were waiting alongside him didn’t seem to bother him whatsoever, no chances would be taken that moment when he took his phone out and called a private hire car. Tigers were a rare sight in the industrial country, mostly due to the fact that the majority of their kind would normally reside in Asian countries and their traditional way of living, stubbornly clinging onto their belief that the western countries wold harbour evil and malice, but partially attributable to their low fertility rates and population, much contrary to our dear designer.

This time around, he waited for quite some time before the familiar black vehicle arrived in front of him, breathing out a sigh of relief. He had entered the vehicle and sharply inhaled, feeling frustrated with himself and life and picking up a faint smell of pine the driver emitted. He instructed the driver to take him to said flower shop while also trying to figure out which building is the right address to avoid further complications. In his mind, he had expected a typical antediluvian construction with walls fashioned out of exposed brick and black iron lampposts, nothing out of the ordinary when one thinks of vintage or old but reality was stranger than fiction when the driver stopped in front of the most odd of buildings. He felt the fur on his tail stand on edge out of the sheer confusion he was experiencing when he first laid eyes upon said building.

“Sir, I don’t mean to question your knowledge or experience, but are we at the right place?” He asked the driver whose short, white ears were poking out of his blue hat.

“That’s right, 21st Avenue, Corona Street, Godiva Floristry. Yeah, we’re at the right address, is there anything wrong?” The European badger looked back at his customer and responded, ears moving to an extent to eradicate the source of his discomfort.

“N-no, nothing’s wrong. I should get going now, thank you sir and have a great day.” He told the driver, opening the door to a slow breeze that just went past his face which caused his dark locks to flutter by the wind.

“Have a great day to you too.” The man returned his greetings and sped away once he exited and closed the door behind him.

His confusion wasn’t subsided at the smallest bit when instead, it was amplified when he tried to figure out the working mechanisms of the structure before him, reminiscing at his dreaded physics classes taught to him at high school. The building’s exterior was constructed out of glass or something similar to the material which was held together by metal alloys of a green hue, reminding him of a greenhouse he would often pass by during his childhood days. He looked up to see that there was a second storey which oddly enough, was fashioned out of concrete with its exterior painted a lighter hue of green to match the green metal below. There were no visible indication that it was indeed a flower shop other than the sign which read ‘Godiva Floristry’ and the words ‘open’ written in all capital letters with bright red fastened on a marble column that held the canopy in place.

The marble column, though seemingly to be out of place, wasn’t the most peculiar thing the tiger saw that really topped the cake. He paced closer to the structure to investigate the interior closer and peered his head into the glass exterior, feeling emotions that repelled each other that happened simultaneously. He saw that there were an impressive amount of vintage decorations that were displayed on a steampunk themed steel stairs that although complimented the decorations, lead to nowhere. Next to it were ostensibly lawn decorations with penguins smoking cigarettes through their orange beaks while riding bright neon yellow tricycles. Just when he thought that things couldn’t get any worse, there was pile of suitcases that were stacked to form the shape of a throne. At first, he thought that it sounds like it was the most normal of decorations when compared to the abnormality he saw at that moment that is, until he sees the teapot placed in a wrong manner along with the mirror balanced on top of it.

He was reluctant to enter such a flamboyant and chaotic place despite the fact that it was incredibly similar to those grandiose and over the top fashion he was constantly surrounded in, but sucked his gut and opened the glass door which produced a ringing noise when the edge of the door hit the brass bell which was fastened above it. Though it surprised him, he calmed himself down and paced forward, hoping that there was someone there to guide him through the odd space. Thoughts of him being mistaken for an intruder started to manifest itself the further he walked which made him increasingly nervous, his tail and ears lowered. Another thought appeared in his head, perhaps that day never happened and the building was just a dream he had, explaining the bizarre and eccentric choice in interior design or perhaps the driver had screwed him over and deceived. All of his thoughts came to an abrupt halt when he heard something along the lines of ‘hello’ and ‘right here in the back’.

He followed the voice that seemed to originate further back, carefully planning out his steps to ensure that he wouldn’t unintentionally knock anything over. He arrived in front of a door which had an Oriental style banner fastened over it, similar to partitions one would find in Asian restaurants. He continued to hear the voice telling him to enter so he put all of his doubts behind him and pass through the door, pushing away the banner from his face. He wasn’t prepared to see the direct contrast from the previous room with the incredibly normal wood flooring, pristine white walls and the pleasant floral aroma. It was certainly starting to appear to be a proper flower shop though he didn’t want to set his hopes high up considering the fact that he had narrowly escaped wonderland.

He continued to walk through the short hallway and was taken aback by the beautiful floral display placed on top of wooden stands and flower carts, large array of flowers from every kind imaginable being arranged in a neat and orderly manner that was pleasing to the eye. He looked up and saw pots of flowers being suspended by iron chains from the wooden beams, leaves grown long enough so that they were dangling from its container which was decorated by red ribbons. The scent of the collection of flowers were pleasing and calming, contrary to his belief that the flower’s aroma would mix together to form an overwhelming fragrance. While he was occupied with admiring the beauty of each floret, he was unaware of the presence of another person in the premises.

“Hi, so sorry for the um, interesting décor in the entrance over there. Welcome to Godiva Floristry.” The person graciously greeted with his velvety voice, surprising the designer and made his heart pace so fast that he thought it was going to leap out of his chest. He turned his head towards the voice and felt his cheeks heat up and heart beat faster at the sight of the owner of the voice for some odd reason. He tried to pick up his individual scent that all people have but found nothing peculiarly enough.

“I apologise in advance but may I ask you, what’s with the decorations out there?” He turned towards the space he exited from and inquired, flustered by the haunting memories of the strange area.

“I’m terribly sorry, it’s my boss’ design choice. I’ve tried to talk her out of it but she insists on setting ‘the right first impression’ to her customers.” He air quoted and appeared to be troubled judging from his apologetic expression. “That’s mostly the reason why we have unconventional customers.” He said under his breath.

“What was that?” The designer asked for clarity, knowing that he heard the man mutter something under his breath.

“Nothing. Anyways, what can I do for you today?” The man responded and asked, producing a delicate smile which seems as though he had done no wrong in this world.

The man in front of him had brown tresses with the ends curled in a natural manner that fell below his shoulder just marginally above his shoulder blades. His pale complexion and slender build enhanced by his mysterious green eyes and rosy cheeks, making him appear to be similar to a porcelain doll with the only thing breaking that image is his height standing at an inch or two taller than the designer. His soft expression corresponding to his mellifluous and velvety voice, making him think that he was surely under the influence for he never met a man as attractive and angelic like him before. That is, until he realised that the man had no animal ears nor a tail to speak of, cementing the idea that the real surprise of the day was in fact the existence of the man.

In their world, they are either born with their animalistic traits or develop them over a period of time with the common name used for the latter being ‘Undetermined’. The time taken for an Undetermined to have their characteristics to show can range from as quickly as days after their birth or as slow as eighteen years. An Undetermined who doesn’t have their traits developed yet are unheard of and strictly put, impossible though this fact is disproven by the presence of the man in front of him. He wanted to inquire of the man’s state but thought against it for he realised that by asking such a thing to him might result in him being mistaken to affront him when all he meant was to question out of concern.

He realised that he was just staring at the man and cleared his throat to pull himself together and respond to the young man’s question, barely recovering from the shock while the man in question seemed to not mind the reaction, possibly due to the fact that he had often receive those kind of stares from all sorts of people who ogle at him as though he was a freak show attraction and had gotten used to it. The man wasn’t alarmed at the slightest bit by how the designer dressed for he was au fait with oddly mannered people and their bizarre antics for the owner of the flower shop he was employed at was one of those odd people.

“I-I would like to order around five hundred bouquets of assorted flower p-please.” He managed to vocalise his intention though it had come out as a stutter. His response was said on impulse without that much thought behind it so he just stood here dumbfounded by his own statement, mentally cursing himself.

“May I ask what your purpose for ordering is?” The man inquired, taken aback by the amount stated even though he had received orders for many other occasions that require a staggering amount of floral arrangements.

“I’m planning to use them in a fashion show as a part of the designs and finishing touches for the garments. The only problem is that I still don’t know which ones I’m going to use when there are multitudes of potions to choose from!” He responded and gestured towards the many rows of floral displays, feeling slightly overwhelmed from the scenario before him.

“A fashion show? How fascinating. Did you bring any sort of reference with you to help you narrow down the choices?” The man asked, interested in the unfamiliar occasion.

“Yes, yes I did bring my folder with me.” He answered, opening his designs and showing them to the man to better help him with the finishing touches of his collection. “Here are a few of my ideas. I was hoping that maybe you could, I don’t know, help me out a little with deciding which ones I should use.”

The designer stood there silently while a feeling of nervousness washed upon his body, feeling the fur on the edge of his tail stand up. He didn’t know what to expect when the expression on the man’s face didn’t seem to change as he appeared to be engrossed in viewing his designs that he had hastily drawn when the idea popped up inside his mind. He thought that perhaps his sketches were underwhelming and wasn’t as good as he assumed they were but that ideology was terminated when the man gave him an unforeseen response.

“Incredible design choice, are you a fashion designer?” He asked, sensing his bubbling inquisitiveness get a hold of himself and affected his speech.

“Yes, yes I am. In fact, this fashion show I plan on holding is to launch my new collection centred on flowers. I’ll incorporate the flowers to the finished design, thus tying in the whole look to my theme.” The designer responded, feeling his confidence rise up again the moment the man asks him about his occupation and artistry.

“I couldn’t help but ask, why go through all the trouble of using real flowers when surely there are cheaper and more everlasting options out there?” The man asked for he found the man in front of him to be a unique and noteworthy character albeit his numerous encounters with strange customers who mistakenly wander into this place thinking that it was a pub or a place to procure drugs and other sorts of illegal substances.

“Well dear, I believe that being surrounded with splendid things will raise by one’s morale and can damn well give happiness. Besides, where it the fun in playing it safe? I’m lavish to the bone, eccentric even, but all that money comes back into the final product.” He answered theatrically, making the man let out a slight laugh which resulted in his face to heat up, now a blushing mess though it is concealed by his larger than life eyewear and medical mask. “Is there anything funny in what I had said?”

“No, you just remind me of something a regular customer would complain about. She always stresses about how her boss is very over the top, dramatic and chaotic to the point that she considers quitting because of how nerve wracking her job could be.” The man responded, reminiscing about the moments his friend would confide in him to rattle about her superior.

“Well, her boss sounds like a pain in the arse from what you describe him to be.” He stated, now looking at the peculiar yellow flower with hints of pink and white patterns on the edge of its petals whilst also feeling pity for the person the man had brought up. “If I were her, I would give that superior a piece of my mind and tell them to shove it.”

“I would have to agree with you, but I have the strangest feeling that-, no” The man furrowed his eyebrows and struggled to recall something that had come across his mind, his expression lighting up the moment he realised what he was trying to remember.

“Is something the matter?” He looked up to face the man and asked, worried that there was something he did to cause offense.

“Within all realms of possibility, are you somehow acquainted with Alexis Blummenweiss?” The man asked to satisfy his interest, startling the designer with the sudden question and the mention of his assistant’s name.

“Indeed I am. She’s my assistant. Why do you ask?” He responded, forgetting the fact that she said in her text message that she often frequented this particular flower shop.

“Ah, so you must be the character she refers to as ‘Mister Fahrenheit’! I’ve heard a lot about you, well, if Fahrenheit is indeed your real name.” The man smiled and made himself let out a short lived laugh, which made the designer realise what had just happened and connected so and so together, resulting in him to think about what sorts of things had his assistant told the man and felt all the colour drain from his face either from the revelation that a complete stranger knows about his unflattering behaviour through word of mouth or from the embarrassment that he scarcely realised that he had insulted himself.

“Which it isn’t. I have a proper name you know.” He responded dramatically to hide his embarrassment with his ears perked up. The man thought that he had actually upset the designer for he was slow in picking up sarcasm and his theatrical remarks.

“I’m terribly sorry sir, I didn’t mean to offend you. It appears that our conversation had diverted from the main topic. Shall we continue our main discussion?” The man bashfully apologised and suggested which made the designer felt guilty towards him.

“Don’t worry about it, there were no offences taken. I was just messing around with you.” He retorted and let out a chuckle. The tiger was surprised that in this day and age, there still were people with purity still in them.

“O-oh, I see.” The man said and felt embarrassed and as a result, a blush crept up on his cheeks, making them even rosier than they were previously. He found his reaction to be amusing and rather innocent, finding the man to be an interesting character.

“So tell me, how do you usually determine which flowers to use? Is it purely based off their looks or is there some other reason?” The designer enquired, wanting to know which types he should use in finishing his pieces.

“It really depends on the florist in question. Most florists will tend to arrange their bouquets purely based on the aesthetic of the flowers combined but I have a tendency to array them based on their symbolic meaning.” The man retorted, handing the black folder back to its owner.

“How do you know which ones to use over the vast selection of florets?” He curiously inquired and slowly strolled to look around the diverse range of florae, picking up the pleasant scent every blossom exudes.

“Intuition, I guess?” The man answered his inquiry, following behind him to continue the conversation. There was an air of composure and mystery surrounding the Undetermined, one that seems to entice and gravitate people towards him despite his normally cold and unresponsive responses.

“How long have you worked as a florist?” He inquired while he continued viewing the blossoms, his attention now fixed on the golden flower in front of him.

“Not that long considering the fact that this is only a part time job.” The man answered, causing him to lift his head up and turn towards him due to the surprising answer he was given.

“Wait, part time? Does this store have any other workers besides you?” He furrowed his eyebrows and had to question for the only two people in that space was him and the florist which made the place appear empty despite the multitudes of varieties of blossoms.

“Yes actually, a full time worker who’s an hour late for her shift and the owner who goes to Austria so often I wonder why she hasn’t moved there yet.” He shrewdly responded and let out a sigh of disappointment, one that the tiger did not expect.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He felt pity towards the man and somehow upset towards the management though it wasn’t in his place to do so. Still, he couldn’t get his snarky comeback out of his head and instead, wanted to know more about the fine gentleman in front of him.

“No worries, if there comes a day where my co-worker isn’t late, it’ll be the end of the world.” He let out a snide remark.

“O-Oh.” He responded, thinking that the Undetermined in front of him isn’t as sweet as he first thought he was.

“For the first and seventh design, I suggest using a mixture of coreopsis and general chrysanthemums. They both mean cheerfulness and their colours when incorporated into the design complement one another.” He grinned and changed the topic, walking a short distance away from the tiger and picked a stem, handing it to him so he could see what he meant by his words to which he graciously accepted.

“For the second and third, either shades of hydrangea would be fitting because of its meaning being either frigidity or heartfelt emotions, depending on your interpretation.” The Undetermined continued, trailing off to another display of flowers nearby, the bright light from the glass roof highlighting his brown locks which made its colour appear to be that of an orange hue. He couldn’t help but admire his beauty under the morning glare whilst wondering what his true occupation could be.

“Now, the gloxinia flower will match the fifth design well. Just add a hint of hawthorn blossoms and it’ll be a match made in heaven. Gloxinias mean love at first sight while the hawthorns are often seen as bad luck or cursed and its true meaning overlooked by the myths and legends surrounding it, with its true meaning being the union of love.” He stated, stopping in front of an ornamental piece and letting out a frustrated sigh because of how he failed to notice the ornament the owner sneakily placed in between the displays.

“So those who wear the outfit will experience love at first sight and will have that love united?” The designer concluded, finding the profound meaning behind said florets to be very romantic.

“That’s one way of interpreting their symbolic meaning.” He looked back at the raven haired man and said, intrigued by his interpretation. “For the sixth design, a purple dahlia will be a great partner. The colour purple epitomises royalty, dignity and grace so the purple dahlia will suit a design that exudes perfection and elegance.”

“I’m impressed that you are able to figure out the meaning behind my designs. You wouldn’t happen to read my mind did you?” The tiger praised, now enthralled by his words and incredibly fascinated by his actions.

“That’s clearly impossible. Like I said, it’s all in my intuition.” He rebuffed his praises, his cheeks now at a hue that almost challenged the red roses he was standing beside. “Well then, what do you think I should use for the fourth one?”

“Marigolds. They represent passion and creativity, much like how design number four screams out. Marigolds are often associated with lions, so if one were to wear the finished outfit-”

“It’ll be a match made in heaven.” They said at the same time which made the tiger’s eyes to light up like all the stars in cloud nine shone at the exact same time though it was concealed through the dark lenses.

“Exactly.” He smiled and approached the tiger, handing him a single daffodil.

“Thank you for your kind advices and the flowers to, of course.” He expressed his gratitude and observed the yellow blossom in his hand, wondering what this one in particular could mean.

“Glad I can be of assistance. When would you like to have the flowers ready?” The man pulled out his phone to notify the owner of the new customer and his immense order.

“Sunday of next week if that’s possible.” He hastily responded, and adjusted his eyewear to prevent them from slipping down the bridge of his nose.

“You certainly are a lucky tiger, we are expecting a new shipment of flowers next week so it’ll coincide with your show.” The florist stated, recalling the reminder his co-worker had told him the previous week.

“Lucky indeed.” He stated, his response holding a double meaning. “I’ll have Alexis pick them up and pay them for me.”

“Alright then.” The man responded and was about to return to tending the plants when he was abruptly halted by the tiger’s question.

“When can I see you again?” He mustered up all his courage to ask him before his nervousness got the better of him, wanting to see more of him in the near future.

“My shifts are on Tuesday and Thursday mornings and Friday evenings, why do you ask?” The Undetermined answered, curious as to why someone like him would ask or even be interested in his work otherwise, him.

“No reason.” He was delighted to hear his schedule and made a mental note to prevent him from forgetting but soon realising the state he was in, slightly worried about his escape route. “Where’s the exit route dear? Please don’t tell me I have to navigate myself over that clutter again.”

“It’s over there besides the garden statue. Shall I see you out?” The man responded and offered to guide him which he did to prevent the tiger from going through the entire hassle of navigating himself around the cluttered area that he wished never existed in the first place.

“I’ll take that offer.” The designer accepted, following the florist close behind to not get lost over the similar terrain while trying to keep his excitement at bay. They soon arrived in front of a wooden door that had a floral wreath hung on it with a piece of wood attached to it that in bold red letters read ‘EXIT’, something that the florist wish he could do at that very moment.

“Well then, good luck with your show Mister Fahrenheit.” He jokingly said, knowing that the tiger most likely disliked that moniker. There was a brief moment of silence which made the man think that he must’ve done something wrong yet again or had upset the tiger.

“It’s Freddie.” The designer suddenly said which caught the man off guard with his unexpected statement.

“Pardon?”

“My name, it’s Freddie Mercury, my dear.” He proclaimed, knowing that most people would have a different attitude towards him once they heard his name, something that was all too common for him. Deep in his heart, he hoped that the man wouldn’t treat him differently like the vast majority who just wanted something from him without ever caring about him as an individual for he found the man to be worth chasing after.

“I’ll be sure to remember that.” The florist responded, thinking that his name though surely uncommon and lovely, isn’t that big of a deal in his ears.

“Does it ring any bells?” He questioned, wanting to confirm whether or not the man knows of his identity with his expectations set high though slightly fearful.

“Is it supposed to?” The man had a confused look and thought that the tiger was pulling his leg yet again by asking that question for he claimed to be troubled in discerning sarcasm despite the fact that he is indeed the most sarcastic and feistiest person anyone has ever engaged in conversation with.

“N-No, it doesn’t. What’s yours dearie?” He enquired and felt the weight on his chest had been lifted by one simple question, his heart leaping for joy. Though he was supposed to be rejoicing that the man was unfamiliar with his name, he couldn’t help but feel hurt at the fact that the other party didn’t recognise him, thinking that he was a fool for being worried about nothing.

“I-I’m John, John Deacon.” The bashful Undetermined answered, wondering why on earth he would ask for his name if not for the sake of formality.

“Well John, you’ll be seeing me often in the near future dear.” He felt a sudden rush of courage and boldly claimed, proceeding to exit the shop and gave him a wink before he could hear the other man’s response while the other party was left bewildered and dazed, trying to comprehend what he just experienced.

He walked on the quiet, concrete pavement with his head held up high until he felt his face heat up again due to him thinking to himself that his actions were reckless and idiotic, his cheeks now tinted in a roseate colour under his medical mask. He stopped himself in his tracks to lean back on a brick wall, breathing heavily and his head feeling as light as a feather. With his bravado now dissolved, all he could think of was his interaction with the Undetermined, his ears perked up and tail swinging back and forth in a slow manner to try and dissipate his timid self.

Inside the shop, the Undetermined, still in a puzzled state, had returned to his station behind the wooden countertops where the cash register was placed, the morning glare which had made its way to his eyes from the large window blinded them. He moved to a spot where the light couldn’t reach anywhere near his face, considering the owner’s eccentric design and architectural choice to be highly inefficient and absurd. He could make out the usage of glass but failed to comprehend the reasoning behind the owner’s choice of the entire front area to be made out of glass.

Now that there were no signs of a customer entering from the entrance, the store was dead silent with no signs of other life besides him and the plants surrounding him. A new inspiration for an illustration came across his head, one that was partially inspired by the previous customer but mostly triggered by the tranquillity and peace the shop had brought him. The brown rucksack he placed behind the counter held all of his travel art supplies so he opened his bag and positioned his sketchbook and pencil case, opening it to take his pencil and eraser before closing it and returning it to his bag. He sauntered towards the display case full of purple and red tulips to start sketching the simplistic petals and its stem, making sure to position each one carefully to make room for his characters. The light graphite lines slowly darkened in certain areas, acting as a shade which adds another dimension to the flowers he drew, capturing the motion and detail of every petal.

Despite his focused state, he was aware of the presence of another individual which prompted him to quickly return his art supplies and sketchbook to his bag, attempting to hide it as best as he could. He heard light and distinct footsteps from a distance, ones which belonged to a person he knew of, his co-worker and friend. The smell of citrus quickly engulfed the space like wildfire, indicating the arrival of the woman clad in a large sweater which had a repeated diamond pattern all over her garment. Her large, triangular orange ears covered with white tufts just outside her ear canal had a seamless transition in colour to her short dirty blonde hair trimmed just above her shoulders, similar to her large tail which had a white patch of fur on its end. Her greenish brown eyes appeared to be full of life, perfectly corresponding to her outgoing and loud personality.

“Sorry I’m late! Did anything happen while I was away, John?” The fox inquired, catching her breath from sprinting in order to arrive at her destination as fast as she could. She had nearly tripped on her own feet from the exhaustion but caught herself when she leaned over towards the counter.

“Good morning Mary. Nothing too interesting, just an order for another customer.” He answered, accustomed to this very scene every morning of his shift. Though he had took this side job as a way to help out his friend and personal interest, he couldn’t help but be curious as to why she would show up late every time and not be given a sanction, most likely due to the lack of the owner’s presence and care towards the shop they were employed in.

“You wouldn’t believe how crowded the subways are! I could barely stand on my feet with how cramped the space was!” She let out a sigh and complained and rested her head on the counter, acting as though he was a therapist which was one of the many things he was used to as for some odd reason people tend to disclose information to him due to the fact that he was deemed trustworthy by said people, contrary to his belief of himself.

“And you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had even though it’s barely nine.” He retorted, knowing the outcome of her complaints already. Though the man he encountered earlier seemed like a normal customer, he could’ve sworn that there must be more to his looks than he appeared to be, perhaps fate doing its work.

**Author's Note:**

> I have troubles in determining what animal should I make John as so leave your suggestions in the comment below!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated and I'll try to reply to every single comment so don't be afraid to leave them here!! Thank you for reading!!


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